


Antebellum

by royalydamned



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Related, Canon Universe, Game of Thrones Spoilers, Implied Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Implied Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Implied Sexism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Death in Childbirth, Multi, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Original Game of thrones house, Pre-Canon chapters, Tywin Lannister's A+ Parenting, Underage character death, both show and book canon, plot divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2020-08-20 01:56:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20219875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royalydamned/pseuds/royalydamned
Summary: Antebellum /adjective/ (lit. happiness before war)Eris used to hold Sandor's bare heart in her palms. He would have given her anything, done anything. He'd been young and stupid, believed that the Gods were just. But they had taken her away from him. He lost the woman he loved and faith. In Gods, in people, in the world. Becoming bitter, filled with anger. A monster. The Hound.But the Gods' justice comes when it's most unexpected, giving Sandor a chance for redemption and a happiness, and Eris a chance to prove that people hold their own faiths in their hands.CURRECTLY UNDER EDITING





	1. Chapter One

Rumors spread fast. They were everywhere catching from a person to person, from a household to a household, quicker with every passing moment but every time further away from the truth. But it never caught her, the person who'd be interested the most. She needed to hear it, but nobody told her.

_"They say his face is burnt. He doesn't look like a boy anymore, he can't blink, all hair gone."_

_"Lips too. Poor thing, they say he is too horrifying to look at."_

A quiet voices of the maids were swirling in her mind, tears burning her eyes. She couldn't see, she couldn't breathe, but she ran. As fast as her small legs could carry her through the streets and small alleys, unaware of the danger she might get into, ignoring the scary people and what they might do to her, forgetting her father and his punishments. She needed to see him. It cannot be true.

_"They say he tripped and fell."_

_"Don't be foolish, his father said his bedding caught on fire, what an awful accident!"_

_"Don't believe everything they say, the older boy did it to him, everybody knows it."_

Her lungs burned, her feet ached, the dress she was wearing was already dirty and torn as she was nearing the Clegane's keep. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

"Sandor!" she called out, voice breaking under the pressure of denied sobs. She needed to see the truth, no matter how awful it was. She needed to see him, feeling guilty and angry she wasn't there when he was healing. Two moons. Cersei kept it from her for two moons.

"Eris?"

His face looked like it beared the mark of Seven Hells, keeping away every living soul with fear and yet he was still just a person, just a boy.

_It is just a scar,_ Eris told herself when she felt hot tears sliding down her cheeks. _He is alive, _she kept repeating, coming closer to him.

He wanted to say something, whether to explain himself or reassure her, nobody knew, but he lost his voice when her small body crashed into his arms, sobs muffled by his shoulder.

"I am sorry," she whispered. "I am sorry I did not know. Cersei, she-"

"It's alright, I'm alright," said the boy, his long dark hair tickling her neck, unburnt cheek resting on her head.

She stepped away slightly, parting their embrace to finally look at his face. The black flesh that was covering his cheek, the cheekbone slightly visible beneath the skin, his missing ear, lips, hair.  
_How painful it must have been? _She though, worry clenching her stomach.

"No," he flinched when she reached out to touch the burnt side of his face, the twisted flesh and darkened skin. "I look like a monster." A single tear fell from his eye, right corner of his burnt mouth twitched when he spoke.

"Do not say that!" Eris exclaimed grabbing his hand. "Knights and soldiers have scars too and they are not monsters. They are brave men."

"But I'm not a knight. I'm not a soldier too. It's not a battle scar."

"When you will be old enough you can say it is! You can say you saved me, nobody will be scared of you then."

"Saved you from what?"

"I do not know," she shrugged. "A monster maybe, from the sea. We can play tomorrow and think about how it happend."

Sandor looked at his friend. On her hopeful smile and the light in her bright green eyes. She wanted to help. Everything could be like it used to.

"Tomorrow then."

\---------  


"Cersei?" whispered Eris into the darkness. The moon was shining on the slender figure of her sister, it's light reflecting on her golden hair, making it look like a pure liquid gold. "Are you alright?"

"Why do you care?" she hissed at her, wiping the tears streaming down her cheeks furiously.

"You are my sister."

"Half," Cersei snapped turning around sharply. "Half sister." The moon mirroring in her eyes made them even more beautiful but scarier at the same time.

"What does it matter? I want to help if I can."

"You cannot, so leave me alone." She didn't. She couldn't. Cersei loathed her, always talked to her with venom in her voice and mockery in her eyes, but Eris had no reason to hate her. She was her family. It didn't matter how much Cersei denied it, how much she ignored it. They were connected by a bond of seed and blood and nothing they did would ever break it.

"Is it about tomorrow?" There was no answer. She just avoided meeting her sister's eyes, not letting her to see her weakness. Cersei wasn't weak, and nobody was allowed to see her like this. Vulnerable, afraid, just a girl. "There is no shame in being afraid or sad. I would be too."

"I could not care less about what you think, dear sister," she spit the last two words like they were bitter tasting fruit, twisting her gorgeous face in a disgusted scowl. "You have no idea what it means to have a duty towards your house and your family."

"I did not chose to be born like this, nor did Tyrion," Eris protested, a spark of rage starting to burn inside her chest. Gods gave Tyrion the short legs and grotesque body. Nobody would choose to look like that and yet, Cersei blamed him. She blamed him for killing their mother, for looking like a monster. She blamed Eris for bringing shame to their father, like she wanted to be born out of marriage.

"You both are the shame of house Lannister. Neither of you deserve to be here," she answered coldly, piercing her cool green gaze through Eris' soul.

"Why do you hate me?" she asked in a defeated whisper, playing with a strand of her red-gold hair, falling over her shoulder down to her waist.

Cersei didn't answer. She didn't need to. Somehow, Eris knew exactly what was hiding behind her cruel smirk and mocking spark in her beautiful green eyes. She would never consider her a sister, nor acknowledge their resemblance. She would always deny their connection, but she could never break their bond. She could never make the two of them strangers.

"You will be a beautiful queen," Eris whispered leaving her sister in the night with her thoughts and new stream of tears sparkling on her face.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I killed my first man at twelve. I've lost count of how many I've killed since then..."
> 
> Sandor Clegane was considered a monster, even when he did nothing to deserve such a thing. There was nothing monstrous he had ever done. He was just a boy. But it was just the matter of time, before he became what people portrayed him as.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of sexual assault, graphic description of violence.

The sky looked like it was set on fire. Shades of red and orange were melting together beautifully, making it look like painter's delicate work with colors. Air was getting cooler and each gentle blow of the breeze made Eris shiver slightly.

"Are you cold?"

"I will be fine, I want to play a little longer," Eris answered, smiling sweetly at her companion. She could see a little frown from behind the dark hair falling into his face, trying to hide the mark fire left on the skin desperately. "It's your turn to hide."

His face formed into something similar to a smile, as much as his stiffened flesh let him and ran away leaving her alone. She waited a few moments, counting the time that passed and then stepped into the quiet alley. 

Wind was whistling softly when it blew past her ears, making the wooden widows squeak and thump as they were swinging and slamming into the walls of the houses. Every step she made echoed through the scarily empty lane, and she hugged herself to feel more safe. It was getting darker, and harder to see. 

Making her way through the labyrinth of houses and taverns, she looked behind every corner, searched every hole or possible hiding place, looked into every abandoned house, but Sandor was nowhere to be found. He was good in this game, hiding from people the past five years, he knew places in the whole of Lannisport where he was certain people wouldn't find him. He couldn't move from place to place. He was too big and heavy, she would have seen him, heard him. He had to stay at one place and yet, it was hard to spot him. 

She could quietly change her hiding spots she was quick and light on her feet, but he always found her. At first Eris thought it was because of her hair, but even when she covered her head with a cape, he knew where she was. He always knew where to search for her. He always knew how to find a way back to her. 

_"Like a loyal dog,"_ Tyrion would often laugh when she talked about their hiding game. He liked to make fun of her friend and yet he never meant it as an offense, she was certain. Why would he talk in such a way about a person when it's not his mistake for being the way he is when he tastes similar words himself? 

_"He always finds his way to you, like a dog does to its master."_

_"He follows you everywhere, like a lost pup."_

_"Don't try her, or her guard dog will bite your hand of." _

_Dog. Dog. Dog. Dog. Dog. _

_No. Sandor is no dog. _

How can a scar make him less of a human in another people's eyes? How can be appeareance so important, that people ridicule others if they look different? Is the outside the only thing that matters, the only thing that makes people beasts and kings, and their hearts are ignored even if they are made of stone? 

"Ain't ya a pretty thing." Eris spun around facing an old man with bald head and short grey beard. "Will ya help a poor man? " he grinned a toothless smile revealing just three rotten black teeth in the front. 

"Of course," she answered, shifting on her feet uneasily as he stepped closer to her. 

"Lil' girls always taste so sweet." Grabbing her wrist he pulled her towards him so she crashed into his bony chest. 

"No! Let me go!" she screamed trying to break free from his grasp, but he just grabbed the other one as well holding her against his body while she squirmed, trying to break free. 

"Ya said ya gonna help this ol' man," he responded breathlessly burying his face in crook of her neck and shoulder, and licked the skin up to her jaw, making her stomach twist in disgust and fear. 

"Help!" she tried again but the only answer was an echo of her own voice, getting more and more quiet with every repeat. 

"Shut up!" She could smell his breath on her face, making her nauseous before a sharp pain on her cheek made her fall onto the ground. Touching the place where he struck her, she let out a terrified and desperate cry, praying to anyone who was listening. 

Rolling to her back she gasped when he kicked her into her tummy, forcing the air from her lungs. 

She couldn't breathe, couldn't scream, couldn't run away. Burying her fingertips into the ground, trying to catch her breath, she stared absently into the sky, into the empty or closed windows hoping somebody would come. That somebody would save her. 

_Why is nobody here? Where is everyone? _

Instead of a sky, she saw the man's face now, looking down at her with wide eyes, hands trembling with excitement. Instead of a whistling wind she heard just his heavy breathing as he knelt over her. 

_Please,_ she thought. _Please have mercy. _

She closed her eyes, losing the last tiny bit of faith, hoping for a quick death or to wake up sweaty and terrified from a bad dream, to find herself in her bed, when the weight of the man disappeared from her. 

When she opened her eyes, she could see the old man, trying to run away from Sandor standing over him. Dark blood was soaking her blue dress, making a dark stains on the cloth. 

The man was holding the side of his head, bleeding heavily and the dark haired boy walking slowly behind him, knowing very well there's no escape from the justice he set for him, clutching a rock stained with blood in his hands. 

"Sandor." He ignored her pleading voice. If it was for herself or the man, he was oblivious to anything else but the person trembling in front of him, crawling of his hands and knees, moaning in pain. 

"Sandor no!" she called out, now louder, a copper taste of blood in her mouth she didn't notice before. He didn't react. Kicking into the man's ribs, he rolled him over to his back and stepped over him, the rock in his hands, raised over his head. 

Before she could yell another protest again, plead him for the man's mercy, to stay a man and not become a monster, Sandor smashed the rock into the skull of her attacker. The man let out a scream of terror or the pain he was about experience before her friend forced the life out of his body. 

"Sandor," Eris whispered, frightened of the boy standing in front of her, preparing to strike another time. "No," she mumbled as she hurried to get on her legs, falling on her knees everytime she made a step. 

"He attacked you!" Sandor yelled as he hitting the bloody rock into the dead man's head again and again, with angry growls of dedication until there was nothing to smash left, just a pool of blood. 

"You killed him." She felt numb, terrified of her own savior. 

"He was a rapist, I bet that he was a killer too. I was doing the justice of Gods, he deserved it!" 

"Men's justice is never just," she said absently, looking at Sandor's hands, red with blood and little red drops that reached his face as well. 

"He was a bad man," he said trying to grab her hands, but she moved them away. "I did it to save you, nothing ever felt so good." 

Taking a step away from him, she started to shake her head, terrified, confused. Everything hurt her, her hands were trembling and a few tears fell onto her cheeks. Before she could stop him, Sandor took her face into his hands, wiping the tears away with his bloody fingers, leaving two red stains behind. 

"I'd never hurt you Eris, I will always protect you." She looked into his grey eyes, they seemed sad and hopeless, but open and vulnerable. "A hound will die for you, but never lie to you."

"You're not a hound," she said in a small voice. She was scared, but she knew he would never hurt her. And she knew he won't lie about it. Not to her. 

"I have never killed anyone before," he confessed looking at the headless corpse. Now his gaze was full of fear, he didn't know what to do. He took a man's life, it felt like being a god. But he wasn't, he was just a boy, willing to do anything to protect the ones he cared for. 

"Nobody can see us here." She took his hand and ran towards the nearest water, cleaning their hands and faces. There was no secrets between them now. They knew each other better then anyone else, even themselves. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've wanted to write this since I read that quote in the book and thank God there were no further details so I could write it to fit this story. This might feel as a pointless chapter but I wanted to build more of the special relationship between Eris and Sandor. Also I love hurting my characters.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every light touch or friendly hug they shared as kids, their hands brushing against each other accidentally, every soothing caress of her hand against his face. All the things that seemed so innocent back then felt so intimate when they were older.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: none

Spending the seven and tenth nameday in the capital had always sounded like a little girl's dream. Like an unachievable wish. Eris had always thought about King's Landing, how beautiful it was, how warm and sunny the weather was there. She dreamed about the sweet fruit the royal family could eat every day, the silk dresses, soft and light on one's skin.

However the real King's Landing felt more like a cursed castle she was a prisoner in, waiting for her brave knight to rescue her, like they always do in songs. How they always slay the witches and monsters, saving the maid from their power, and escaping together on his beautiful stallion.

Everything was prettier in the songs.

_And where is my knight at?_ she thought, looking out of a window at the enormous city beneath her. The sun was setting down, its light slowly disappearing behind Visenya's Hill, already casting a shadow over half of the city. Eris wondered where Sandor might be, if he forgot about her nameday and is rather somewhere in a tavern drinking ale.

_It could be worse._ Her mind went to Tyrion, who was alone with their father at home,only imagining how awful he must feel. _Is he as lonely without me, as I am without him?_ She asked, if the Gods or just herself, she didn't know.

She had begged their father if he can come too. For the first time in her life she had begged him, for days, not willing to stop. She couldn't leave him there alone. They were always supposed to be everywhere together. To protect each other, to reassure each other. To remind themselves they are not alone. That they can be a family to each other.

But he didn't let him.

_"You will be enough of a shame for Cersei to bear. She doesn't need the little monster as well."_

_Little monster, she thought bitterly. Tyrion was a big man in a dwarf's body. A bigger man then father will ever be._

Clinging of steel and heavy steps rang through her thoughts, dragging her back from her mind to the real world. The sun was set and moon already ruled the sky, bright and beautiful. Little stars were spilled all over the darkness over the world, sparkling like they were made of the purest silver. Night was always a beautiful sight. 

"You look like a little bird, longing to flee from its golden cage," said a deep voice, Eris knew too well. The voice that made her heart jump in her chest when she heard it.

"Sounds about right," she answered without looking him, focusing on the dark sky above her head. In the white dress and hair loose on her shoulders, she looked like she ruled the stars, counting them every night to know not even a single one was lost. 

"Why aren't you celebrating?" 

She just shrugged. The truth was an unspoken secret she was keeping deep inside of her heart. Locked away, hoping that when she will be brave enough to say it out loud, she won't be met with rejection. 

_I was waiting for you._ The secret part of her, buried deep inside away from everyone's gaze screamed but her mind didn't let her say it out loud. Not yet. "Where were you?" 

"Looking for a gift," he grunted, a little shame hidden behind his voice._ Is he ashamed of being thoughtful? Have the people ruined him that much?_

The person in front of her was something she feared they would make of her friend. Someone who believed he should not have feelings. Someone ruthless. Just a killer, who everyone was scared of. Just a dog who cared, but didn't want anyone to know. He stopped being Sandor Clegane the day he stepped into the King's Landing, and had been the Hound ever since.

"A gift? You didn't need to give me anything." He was everything she needed. His presence was worth all the jewels and expensive dresses, hearing his voice meant more to her than fragile pages of a book, feeling him next to her was more valuable then all the money in the Seven Kingdoms. She just needed him by her side, to talk, to laugh, to be himself. Something he found so hard to do recently. She wanted to see the part of him he was pushing away from the world to see. 

"I'm sorry we don't see each other like we used to," he said quietly, finding it harder and harder everyday to show emotion to people. It hurt terribly that he was hiding himself from her too, like she wasn't the person protecting him from the poisonous words. 

Opening his hand he revealed a little golden necklace sparkling slightly in the moonlight on his big palms. "I hoped I could get you something to know, that I'll always be here. With you."

There he was. A glimpse of the person she had known, the person she believed he still deep deep down was. 

"Sandor," she gasped, tears burning her eyes, threatening to spill onto her cheeks. "I know everything is different now, but nothing in the whole Seven Kingdoms and beyond will keep me away from you."_ My heart belongs to you and only you. I belong with you, no matter where, if you're there cure my lonely heart._

She looked up to meet his grey gaze, heavy brows furrowed above his vulnerable eyes. She felt so small next to his intimidating form, far taller and more mascular than the men of the Kingsguard, and yet she couldn't unsee the scared lonely boy. His scarred heart only she could heal, the nightmares she always kept away when he was shaking in her embrace. All the fear he tried to keep hidden, eating his soul from the inside.

They expected too much from him. _Just because he looks strong doesn't mean he can't break under the weight of their cruel words and judging eyes._

"Can I?" he asked gesturing towards her neck with the hand he was holding the necklace in, breaking the silence between them. He sounded awkward, unsure what to do or say, looking slightly uncomfortable. _Please not with me._ Her soul ached thinking he didn't feel as close to her as he used to. _I know his wishes and fears, all the secrets he bears on his shoulders, his desires and disgusts, his dreams and nightmares. I'm the person who knows him the most. I'm the person who would never judge him._

"Please." Turning around, Eris moved the long red-gold locks from her back, exposing the smooth skin of her throat and collarbones, so the bracelet wouldn't get tangled in her hair. The cold air blew on her bare throat and shoulders, making her realize how exposed she felt now in front of him. 

She inhaled a sharp breath when she felt Sandor's rough fingerprints on her skin, tingling her with the light touches of his flesh on hers. As she shivered slightly beneath the contact he tensed behind her and stopped his movements for a moment. Realizing how close he was behind her, feeling the cold radiating from the steel of his armor sending goosebumps down her spine Eris swallowed air down her dry throat, nervous and unsure, but excited of how intimate this moment felt. 

Every light touch or friendly hug they shared as kids, their hands brushing against each other accidentally, every soothing caress of her hand against his face. All the things that seemed so innocent back then felt so intimate when they were older. Every inch of her skin sparkled under his touch. 

Feeling the cold metal on her throat, she touched the beautiful green stone the thin golden chain was carrying with the tips of her fingers, tracing its smooth surface with adoration.

_How much had he given for it? _

"It's beautiful!" Eris exclaimed happily, spinning around to face her friend. He was bent forward slightly, his face not far away from hers, the heat of his body hitting her own. She could feel their breaths becoming one between them, their noses inches apart as they stared into each other's eyes, frozen from the closeness, unable to move away even if it felt like a wise choice. They had never been so close, not this way. It was new, exciting and in some way it felt right. She felt waves of warmth go through her body, a tingling sensation in her abdomen as she glanced at his hand holding her elbow. She couldn't recall when he placed it there, but hoped and prayed he won't remove it. Her heart was beating faster and faster with every passing second, loud and strong, mixing her nervousness and excitement into one undiscribeable feeling. New and intense, making her whole body tingle and itch in a whole different way, making her want to get as close to him as possible.

"I-" he said in a low voice, breaking their intense eye contact to drop his gaze to glance at her lips before meeting her eyes once again. Her heart skipped a beat as her mind screamed at her something she didn't understand herself. "It matches your eyes."

_Oh, the things you do to my heart._ Her body yearned to be the one to take another step forward, aching to lean a little closer, just a little bit to seal their lips together. Just an inch or two and her dreams will come to life, nights full of his deep voice whispering words of love and adoration to her ear, his hands holding her close, his lips tasting hers, their hearts beating as one.

"Eris," called out a familiar voice, snapping both of their wandered minds to the real world, startling them enough to jump apart. 

Sandor was the first one to take quick step back, regret filling his eyes, hurting her more then a steel could.

_Please don't close yourself up now from me._

She could feel an urge to cry in in the back of her throat, the single sight of him right now in front of her was breaking her heart. 

"It's late, you should rest," he rasped in a low quiet voice, looking at the figure in golden armor coming their way rather then at her. It hurt. It hurt badly, the anxiety was squeezing her lungs in a firm grip so tightly it was harder for her to breathe. 

_No, stay._ She wanted to plead, but before she collected the courage to do so, he was leaving into the dark with swift heavy steps, head hung low, like a hurt dog he reminded people so often. If it was in shame or disappointment, she couldn't tell, she had a feeling she didn't even want to. It would just make it worse.

"What are you doing here so late?" 

"Jaime," she said spotting the familiar figure when Sandor was out of sight. "Sandor gave me a name day present." He glanced at the hand on her chest and fingers lovingly playing with the small emerald, reflecting the dark sky and the lucid moon. "And it's not that late."

It was, but neither Eris or Sandor realized how fast the time had passed. Lost in each other's eyes and their own thoughts, confused by their own feelings it felt like the time had stopped. 

"It is if you're outside of the Keep by yourself. But it's a gorgeous necklace."

"I wasn't alone." 

"Yes, I saw that," her brother stated with a hint of amused smirk, making her cheeks heat up to sheepish pink color. She couldn't tell if he was teasing or mocking her. It wouldn't make a difference, both made her uncomfortable, trying find a way out of the conversation like an animal does when it's trapped, just waiting for its death.

"Not you too," she mumbled, face falling and sat on the ground, not caring about the silk nor the color white as northern snow. It was just a dress.

Jaime sat next to her, as quietly as his armor let him, and waited without a word, waiting for her to continue their conversation, but she remained quiet, thinking about all those people who thought she is something acceptable to laugh at. 

Cersei mocked her, Tyrion teased her, Robert joked about her and people whispered, spreading words, false and true, it didn't matter. All hurt the same. Even if the intention wasn't to. 

Sometimes, words have bigger power then steel. They can hurt person more then any sword does or encourage and threaten better then the sharpest dagger. Everyone who knew how to use them right ruled the world. Ruled the poor, for they knew exactly what they wanted to hear. Whom to praise and whom to curse. They ruled the rich, because if they promised more to them everytime, they wouldn't bother to get paid, always waiting for the bigger sum. And they ruled the royalty, they knew exactly what they wanted to hear and when they wanted to hear it. They knew when they were interested enough to be listening. They knew where to serve and when to ask for more. 

"What are you thinking about with such a focus?" Jaime asked, when the silence was unbearable. When he had watched her frown deep in thoughts for long enough to want to hear them too. 

"Everyone seems to enjoy humiliating people." He looked at her, surprise in his eyes, he knew how words could hurt, he tasted it himself. Everywhere in the streets or in the hallways, a whisper of the name was following him everywhere he moved. _Kingslayer,_ echoed in his mind. _A man without honor._

"People will always want to hurt you," he answered looking straight ahead, thinking about his own demons, his own voices of shame. "They will mock you and insult you, enjoying the sight of you breaking. The only thing you can do to hurt them, is stand up with your head high, act like they don't affect you. Like you're wearing an armor of your own respect towards yourself. Armor of your own self-value." He turned to look at her, meeting her sad gaze, sharing the pain they both are carrying, the shame they have to deal with, seeing the understanding in each other. Two different people, as alike as an pear and a peach probably, but both of them knew what the other one was living with. They both had known that malicious whisper following them everywhere they moved.

_Bastard._

_Kingslayer._

_The shame of a noble house._

"Don't allow them into your head, your weaknesses and your feelings are something you cannot affect."

"Thank you," she whispered hugging him tightly. She didn't expect his arms around her waist hugging her back, the cold gold of his armor queezing her harshly, but she didn't mind.

Even just by this simple moment shared, they grew closer. Accepting each other's mistakes and learning to live with their own. Building the other one stronger then they were before. Jaime never turned his back to his family. 

Her brothers were the only ones from the house Lannister that ever accepted her, loved her. Her and Tyrion were the black sheep of the family, shame and shadow, something not to speak of. But Jaime didn't care. When Cersei wasn't around, he spent time with them, not caring about how they look or how they were born. They were his blood, he loved them. Who else would if not him? Who else would protect them from the cruel words and poisonous tongues? 

"Anytime," he replied quietly, taking his own advice to the heart. A dwarf, a bastard and a kingslayer, Eris thought amused. Tywin's perfect family has fallen apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this, had a breakdown, finished it, read it, had another breakdown and rewrote it. Bon apetite!


	4. Chapter four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People don't get to chose whom they love, nor who loves them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Implied (tw)incest

It had been ten days since Eris last seen Sandor on the night of her nameday, and he was avoiding her ever since. Not meeting her eyes when she looked at him, trying to desperately catch his attention, keeping away from all the places she spent her free time at, or not acknowledging her presence whenever they were together in a room, breaking her heart with every ignored glance or cold greeting when they were occasionally forced to meet.

But she saw him everyday, when the sun set and darkness of the night layed across the whole city, as he was heading into a tavern. She saw him fighting with squires and sers, the ones she knew and the ones who came into King's Landing to win gold or shorlasting glory for themselves or their houses in the upcoming tourney. Big and small, new and old, they all wanted the same.

She wondered how must it feel to hold a sword. How must it feel to duck the blows of the opponent with the heavy steel in her hands, the thrilling rush in her blood as each of their strikes ting in a song of battle. She wanted to feel the cold material on her skin when she would be laying on the ground, defeated, her partner standing above her, victorious smile on his lips. She wanted to know how it must be, to get the other person on his knees, knowing there is no way he could turn it around.

But that was no place for a girl. Battleground was for men as strong as Sandor, to whom the sword is no heavier then a needle in maid's soft hands and fighting as natural as breathing a fresh air into his lungs. They always looked graceful and yet so savage, moving around, expecting the hit of their opponent, forgetting the real world around them in the heat of their fight.

She watched him. Everytime someone was brave enough to challenge him, she was looking at his focused face, his heavy brows in a dangerous looking frown and the burned skin on his face pulling his lips into a scowl. She watched his strong movements as the muscles on his arms and legs flexed with every step and every blow of the weapon in his arms.

Touching the cold stone falling in between her breasts of the golden thin necklace around her neck, she thought about the promise he made not too long ago, where the moon and stars were the witnesses of his words as his fingers were touching her sensitive skin.

_"I hoped I could get you something to know, that I'll always be here. With you."_ His voice echoed through her mind, thinking how much of it was true. She wondered if his heart longed for her as much as hers did for him. She wondered if he dreamed about her touch and her voice every night, if he thought about her as intensely as she did of him.

The thought of her feelings not being returned hurt. More then wildfire burning every inch of her skin, more then the sharpest Valyrian steel cutting deep into her flesh. Eris knew she belonged to him, with body and soul like The Maiden craved his name deep into her heart, and maybe, just maybe she did the same to him. Maybe her name marked him inside as well, connecting their lives forever, but he was too scared of people's vile words to ever admit it.

_I will protect you, _she thought with familiar feeling at the back of her throat as she came closer to the sound of a fight. _I won't let them ruin you completely. _

Eris was close to them now. She could smell the sweat in the air as the men breathed heavily in exhaustion, their hands slightly shaking as their weak fingers were trying to desperately keep holding the heavy sword, but Sandor showed no such signs.

She tried to be quiet, she didn't want him to see her, if he wanted to he wouldn't have avoided her for so long, but she was no cat. Her steps were heavy and easily heard to person engaged in a figh, when their senses were sharpened as they were focused on their opponent.

He turned around to meet her eyes when the young boy, no older then thirteen was on the ground. She saw the surprise flicker across his face for a moment before he hid it under a very well trained frown that would scare away the courageoust soldier. But it didn't scare her off, it never had and it never would. Eris knew his real face, she knew he would never hurt her. He said it himself, he promised it next to his very first victim, as it's blood was on his trembling hands and clothes, he promised that he would never raise a hand at her.

The boy stood up and dusted of his clothes from the dirt, but Sandor payed him no mind. He was too stunned to do anything else then stare into Eris' eyes, the sword hanging in his loose grip. The young squire took it as a chance, kicking the blade from the huge boy's fingers and pointing the sharp end to the Hound's face, who only stared at him in surprise.

"You cheated," Sandor growled, towering dangerously over the much shorter blonde boy, but he didn't move a muscle.

"You froze," he smiled smugly, sparing a side-glance at Eris, who was watching from afar.

Before the dark haired man could curse him or insult him, the boy proudly bounced away happily, leaving the pair alone.

"Pretty ladies don't often come here," Sandor murmed when she just watched him without a word. "It's too much blood and sweat here."

"So you think I'm pretty?" she chittered with with a wide smile, hearing just the part she wanted to hear from his mouth. The corner of his right lip twitched as shrinked his nose in response.

"That wasn't my point," he said, trying to hide his flustered voice in annoyance.

"I know."

"Then why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you. You've been avoiding me since my nameday, what am I supposed to think?" She reached out to cup his right cheek, to know she wasn't losing him. To know he still felt safe with her, that he wasn't closing up before her. She needed to know he still trusted her, she needed to know he still cared, that this is just another obstacle they have to go through. Together.

But he flinched away, before her fingerprints could even lightly brush against the twisted flesh of his cheek and roughly clasped her hand in his, an angry look in his eyes, something she has never seen before. He had never looked like this, not at her.   
She felt a sting in her heart as he gritted a simple "Don't" through his teeth, and fought back tears burning in her eyes.

He saw it. He saw the hurt in her orbs and his gaze softened as well as the grip around her soft fingers.   
"Please don't," he repeated now in a quiet broken whisper, it almost sounded like a desperate plead. What made him hide his true face from her now? What scared him away from her, when they used to be closer than lovers ever could, or siblings would ever be. They are drifting away from each other with every passing year and Eris fears they will become strangers.

"I miss you Sandor." She ignored his plead and placed her other hand on his unburnt cheek, forcing him to look down into her eyes. "I don't know what is happening, but if you will keep pushing me away I will never be able to help."

"You can't help."

"We've always been in this together, why change it now?"

He didn't answer, just looked away, unsure of what to say or what to do. She freed her left hand from his grasp to place it on the scarred side of his face, forcing him to look at her again. She wished to know what he was thinking. She wanted to read his mind, to look into his heart, just a glimpse, understand his feelings and reasons behind his latest actions. He could just tell, like he always did. Just talk to her and make it right again, but he didn't want to. And she didn't understand what did she do wrong. Where did she fail.

"Sandor please, tell me what I did. I want it like it used to be, the two of us. No secrets, no fear, no dark bottomless gap between us, making us into strangers with every passing day. You are a different person, I am as well, but let me know this person as good as I did the young boy from Casterly Rock. The one who was the living example of good heart, who knew a scar isn't a mark of shame. Let me see the man he had grown up to be. Let me know him again, from a different angle, with a different eyes of my own." _Let me love him all over again, if it what he needs. If it's what you need. _

"I have always been this person," he replied in a stern voice but his face hadn't changed the soft look in his eyes, the regret and pain the cold grey gaze beared, trying to hide it from this world, so they couldn't hurt him. So they couldn't hurt her. "You're just seeing the truth now."

"No," she whispered, shaking her head slightly. "Just because you convinced everybody you are a monster, reduced yourself from a man to a dog, making them see a bloodlusting hound, wouldn't keep me away. Wouldn't hide the truth I know, the truth I had always seen."

He was trying to fight it, he just wanted to be left alone, suffer in the darkest corner of King's Landing, hiding from her love and other people's hate, but every word she spoke to him, pulled him away from his own mind and protected him from the demons that haunted his sleep.

"What do you want me to do? I disgust women, scare children and intimidate men. Nobody gave me a chance to be anything then a murderer, or an obedient dog."

"People pushed you but you let them. Look at yourself, twice the size of any man and yet you sway in their words like a flower in a wind. I wanted to be there for you, but kept running away from me. You refuse help, you accepted this destiny, as something-" she stopped abruptly, removing her hands from his face. He already missed her touch, the heat from her hands. She always believed in him but now she was losing her faith and he hated it. He hated himself.

"I should go," she said coldly now, taking a step back from him. "Tyrion came to the city, he hasn't seen little Joffrey yet."

"Eris." Sandor caught her wrist as she was trying to leave, turning her around so she was facing him again. "I'm sorry, alright? I'm sorry for being a coward, for trying hide from you I never meant to hurt you. I would never, I promised you that."

"You did," she answered quietly, tilting her head upwards to look at his face. He could see every single freckle marking the skin on her nose and cheeks, the pink lips he could kiss but always backed away. He feared that she would reject him, but at the same time he feared she would accept him. That she would feel the way he did, wanting to be by his side, because he knew, he was certain the world would keep them apart. "And yet you keep hurting me without realizing it."

"I don't want to."

"Then stop," she laughed softly, a strange light twinkling in her eyes. "All you need to do is stop. Stop hiding from me, stop refusing my help, stop being afraid of being close to me again."

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "You should go and greet your brother. You missed him."

She did. She missed his witty remarks and their shared moments, as they were sitting together, with cup of wine or two, laughing at themselves or others and being the only ones who really understood each other. Jaime was kind to her, but he was Cersei's twin, he would always rather be with her, always be on her side. He wasn't perfect, but he still was Tywin's golden son, his perfect child, the Lion of Casterly Rock. He could never understand, how it feels to be hated by his own father.

"Yes," she answered simply, a soft smile still playing on her lips, melting away every restrain from Sandor's mind. "I hope I will see you at the tournament on the morrow."

"I'll be there. Having more gold never hurts."

"You are right," Eris answered and pushed herself onto her tiptoes to place a delicate kiss on the twisted flesh of Sandor's burnt cheek.

It was barely a touch, like brushing your fingerprints along butterfly's wings, still tingling the spot on the skin a few moments afterwards, and yet it kicked all the air from his lungs. He grew stiffer then a stone statue, staring at the girl in front of him in utter shock he was trying to hide and failing.

"Cannot wait to see you fight, you got very good," she called after him over her shoulder, trying to hide a satisfied smirk her lips were pulling into, as she was skipping happily towards the Red Keep.

_Everything is going to be all right again,_ a happy thought appeared in her mind as she remembered the red color creeping up his neck after her lips delicately touched the skin of his face, making her heart flutter pleasantly.

Her footsteps were clanging all over the empty hallway, leather making a soft sound every time it met the cold stone floor. It was quiet, almost completely, but she still heard distant voices, recognizing the words they were saying the further she walked.

"Jaime-" a female voice spoke, sounding breathless and needy, between a plead and a command.

Eris stopped in her tracks, hearing her brother's name said in such passion, curiousity fighting with her manners. Hiding behind a corner, controlling her breath to stay unnoticed and quiet, she led an inner battle with herself. Jaime had swore his life, body and soul, to protect the king. He swore to wed no wife and father no children, knowing nothing else just duty. No woman's love, no children's laugh, but as she was hiding, just a few steps away from her brother and his secret lover, whoever it was, her heart leaped in her chest.

_Maybe a gentle woman's love will free him from Cersei._ She thought hopefully. _Maybe she will break the bond of duty she holds him with, making him feel the need to share his life and death with her like they shared their mother's womb. _

Unable to fight the need to know the answers to her questions, to see if her wishes were coming true, she peeked around the wall she was leaning against, looking just by one eye, trying her best not to be seen, convincing herself in her head that this wasn't spying, that she wasn't lurking because she saw all this by an accident.

Jaime stood there by a wall, lips crashed onto the gold-haired woman pushed against the wall, his hands gently caressing her cheeks. She recognized the emerald greed robe and small crown seated upon the long golden locks. She recognized the face he was holding as his tounge tasted her pink lips, breathing her sweet scent desperately, lost in the sweet extasy.

"Cersei," Eris gasped, her stomach flipping inside her, making her sick at the sight of her sibling kissing each other with such a passion she rarely seen lovers do.

Cersei pushed him away, panick written all over her as her eyes snapped to meet Eris'. Jaime turned around, slowly and surely, like he didn't want to know who saw them, like he didn't want to acknowledge anybody even did.

"Little bitch, cannot keep her nose from other people's lives, I will-"

"No, let me," he stopped her, surprisingly calm, and started walking towards Eris, slowly, his face hard as stone.

She started to step back, unable to break their eye contact. Jaime loved her, he was her brother and she was his sister, he stood up for her but always took Cersei's side at the end. He was loyal to her to the core, loved her more then anyone. Would he be able to kill Eris now to protect this twisted love story of theirs?

"Jaime no!" Eris yelped as he caught her wrists into his hands, his grip strong like steel cuffs. She was unable to break free.   
He pulled her behind the corner she was hiding not long ago, seeming like curiosity chose her destiny.

"Eris please," he whispered, surprising her by his plead, and looked into her eyes, sad a hopeless. He looked like a little boy, ready to promise her anything if she kept his secret. "Our love is not hurting anyone."

"This is sick," Eris answered no louder than he did, utter disbelief written all over her face, her mind flinching with disgust at his words. "This is no love, this is an ill act. Gods will look down on you, don't you want peace?"

"I do, but gods casted me out long ago." He took a deep breath and loosened up his grip around her hands, never leaving her eyes. "We don't get to chose who we love, you should know this. You do know this."

"I-" she wanted to oppose him. She wanted to how wrong he was but she couldn't, because deep down she knew how it is to love and be judged. She knew, that it some twisted and perverse way, this indeed was love. "She will be the destruction of you," came a whisper instead. "You are not the same person she is Jaime. You can be better."

"No," he replied, shaking his head, a sad smile on his face. He thought about himself less than he was. He saw the destroyed parts of himself, ignoring the honor and good that was still inside of him. "We are the same."

"You're not," she mumbled, not very sure if he heard her, and ran from his arms towards Tyrion's chamber, now not caring about what she heard or what she thought she saw.

She ignored every silhuette, every whisper and every voice, nearing her brother's door. She wanted to forget ever seeing them, wanted to forget knowing. She didn't care about the string of sweat running down her back, nor the dewed temple on her head, she just wanted to see her brother after so long, letting everything else out of hear head.

Breathing heavily, she knocked on the hard wood, inhaling and exhaling deeply, trying to calm her burning lungs as she wiped away the sweat on her face with the back of her hand.

_Ladies do not run,_ flashed through her mind. _Ladies do not sweat._ She remembered looking down on her messy form, her breathing coming to normal, feeling little startled and embarrassed by the way she looked now. All over the place, but strangely, she didn't care.

"Eris," called out a happy voice, when the door opened.

"Tyrion," she said with a huge smile as she was looking down at her brother, grinning playfully at her with goblet of wine already in his hand.

She threw herself on her knees, hugged him tightly, forgetting everything, just glad to have him back. Losing Sandor from her mind, perceiving the incident from earlier just like a bad dream, as his short arms wrapped around her neck.

"I missed you," she confessed, feeling tears of joy burning in the corners of her eyes. "Everyday without you was a punishment, I felt so alone."

"I missed you too," he replied and she could feel him smile.

"I sent you letters, you never answered," she told him, breaking their embrace to look into his eyes, black and green stating back at her, regretfully.

"Yes, I apologize." He looked around them, realizing, Eris was still kneeling in the cold ground as they were talking in the doorframe. "But we should talk inside, come, walls have ears."


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion is always a voice of reason and logic in Eris' life. However her heart does not ache for a life of comfort but the feeling of love and freedom.

Tyrion's chamber was far smaller then any other, seeming more like a fancier cellar then a room worthy of the Queen's brother. The walls and low ceiling made Eris feel like suffocating in the small dark space as the only source of fresh air and daylight was a small window near his bed, which was not enough. Everything was covered in a layer of dust, making him seem more like a prisoner then a guest, loathed instead of respected. As he always was. 

"I see you like my chambers, a generous gift from our dear sister. Isn't she just lovely?" Tyrion said, irony dripping from his words, as he climbed into his chair looking back at Eris with the familiar mischievous wit she hadn't seen in ages. 

It always seemed like he knew what others were thinking, playing along and annoying them into madness until he decided it was the time for him to strike. He was clever. So awfully clever, it sometimes scared her. She was scared of what he could do. 

"It seems she is willing to continue with your little game even now that she is the Queen. Now that she has all the power, all the money, she cannot help herself but still compete with you."

"Our game?" he chuckled, taking a long sip from his wine. "What game?" 

"Me and Jaime were never as smart as you two," she admitted and took the goblet of wine Tyrion was handing her. "But deep down she knew you were smarter and she was jealous. And it seems like she still is."

A silent laugh came from his side, eyes sparkling with impishness as he slowly put down his drink, leaning towards her with a wide grin. "You underestimate yourself dear sister, and so does everyone else."

No, she wasn't as clever. She was far too much controlled by her heart for it, her emotions stronger than logic or reason. "Smart and cunning aren't the same thing." 

"But mostly they are the two sides of the same coin." Her only answer was a smirk. 

"You still haven't told me why you haven't answered any of my letters."

"Yes, there is no reason explaining my ignorance," he sighted defeated. "I suppose I was just too busy trying to please father, foolishly thinking je would ever consider me an heir to the Rock." 

"What do you mean? Cersei is the Queen and Jaime cannot hold any lands, he is under the oath." She knew Tyrion would have been a good lord. He lived among the commoners like she did. He knew the people. He knew what they wanted and what they needed, they talked with him, drank with him like he was one of them. And he was in some way. But Casterly Rock was his right. The king could whore and drink as much as he wanted and still was a good king, how was Tyrion any different? 

_Because people loathed the Imp._

"Yes." She heard a loud thud as he jumped from the chair he was sitting on, awkwardly limping towards the place on bed she was nested on and sat beside her. "But you are a woman grown and manipulateable enough to do as father says."

_I am not a stupid little girl,_ she thought angrily, clenching her jaw. 

"He said that?" she gasped quietly, hurt by the words coming out his mouth. She didn't believe they were Tyrion's, they couldn't be. He just told her she was smart not too long ago, he told her not to underestimate herself.

"Something similar to it," Tyrion winced, trying to avoid directly interprete the words Tywin really said and placed his small thick hand on her own. "I am not angry."

"I am a bastard," she said, trying to sound confident but it came out as a desperate whisper. "I am a bastard I cannot be the lady of the Rock. I have no heritage, no knowledge of ruling and I-" she stopped herself, not really sure of what she wanted to say. That she was afraid? That she didn't want it? That she is the one supposed to be angry? 

"You know you can be given the heritage."

"But why? Why? Father hates me!" 

"You cannot be this blind Eris, father clearly sees something in you, he was already arranging a marriage, just waiting until you you were ready to be wed, you are an opportunity for him. A chance for more money, for more wealth-"

"Stop!" she cried out, lower lip trembling in shame and anger. "That is a horrible thing to say. I-I am not just an opportunity. I know how much Cersei hates what happend to her, how much she hates Robert. I don't want to hate my life. I don't want to spend it with a person that disgusts me."

"Eris," he said softly, almost afraid any of his words might have broken her any moment, carefully wiping away the tear rolling down her cheek. "Do you realize this is your chance, and probably the only one, to be an acknowledged member of our family. To be a Lannister. Do you know what I would give to have an opportunity like this?" 

"A simple name for what? A life full of misery?" 

"No!" He couldn't understand her. He couldn't see how her heart broke at every thought of a life without love. A life without Sandor. It wasn't about money, about wealth, titles nor lands. She would live a poor farmer, living from almost nothing if it meant to be free from the life controlled by her father. If it meant for her to be happy, with the man she had fallen in love with so gradually, she didn't notice until she hit the hard ground of realization. And the pain was the sweetest she ever knew. "A comfortable life. A safe life. Walking around without feeling the gazes full of shame, watching you and hating your for who you are. You deserve it. You deserve to be respected, to be safe."

"I want to be happy. I want to love and not to be controlled." 

"And you will have all of it." 

"How do you know that?" she snapped, standing up from the bed abruptly, almost hitting her head on the low ceiling. 

He meant well, he always did, but he and she had a different views on the world. "I don't want to be so miserable and disgusted of my own husband like Cersei to start-" she cut herself off, putting her arms around her middle almost defensively. She didn't want to ever think about her siblings, but so many questions swam in her mind, begging to be answered.

Tyrion looked at her, curiosity written deep in his gaze. _Does he know? Does he suspect?_ "To start fucking your own brother is that what you mean?" be laughed, his voice balancing somewhere between mockery and disgust. Like he knew for a long time.

_Does that mean it wasn't for Robert? It was not an act of desperate passion? _

"Has she been with you too?" the young girl asked, horrified. She thought about their bickering and hateful glances, their insults and games only the two of them understood. What if it was all just an act? Has her family been warming each other's beds, whispering a perverse words of love in between the breaths and gasps of passion. A shiver of suppressed disgust crawled down her spine. 

He laughed in response, throwing his head back at the force of his amusement and a put hand over his chest. "Me?" he asked breathlessly into the sound of his own dying laughter. "The only person Cersei hates more than you, is me. You know it."

"Could be just an act," she whispered seriously, eyeing her brother with a cold eyes he had never seen before. Suspecting, careful and untrusting. Tyrion felt a seizing pain on his heart. _Over the line. _

"Trust me, Eris," he said, his voice suddenly careful, aware of the thin ice he is on. "I knew about it. And I did not tell you, because it was their dirty secret. It was too much for you to take, but you saw them, did you not?" She nodded slightly, the whole situation making her feel uncomfortable. Afraid. Her home was a house of sin. House of kingslaying, incest and bastardy, and the Gods will punish them. The Gods do not show mercy to such a sinners. 

"I don't need you to protect me. I'm a woman grown. I can handle it, everything." 

"You cannot," he snapped, sounded desperate, almost scared. "Everybody wants to hurt you, but you are too good, just too good. You are the only person I have, only person that understands me, loves me," he whispered tears glistened in his eyes. "I begged father. I begged him for days to at least let you decide whom to wed. I knew you would hate it because I know where your heart is, but it will just destroy you, break you. Love is a disadvantage in this world. You need to be safe. You still can live without shame and hate."

She took a deep breath, kneeling in front of him on the cold floor, and placed her wine beside her carefully. "Don't say that," she whispered with a sad frown written deep in her face. "Love protects us. You just need to believe. In me and in the good there still is out there. I will talk to father."

"He won't let you."

"What?" 

"He won't let you be with him, it would ruin his plans. Sandor has nothing to offer, you are now an important figure in his chess. Please," he begged taking her cold hands in his. Warm, thick and rough, squeezing gently but strongly, let her know the weight of what he had to say. "Please, just do as he says. I don't want you to get hurt." 

"I won't," she replied, fake confidence in her voice. Nobody had ever cared what happens to her and now she is about to be forced into a marriage she would not know about if her brother wouldn't tell her. She was scared of what could happen, hells, she was terrified, but the thought of Sandor's voice in her ears, saying her name in such a tender way, making her knees go soft and mind blank made her dedicated. The feeling when he was around her, the warm feeling of safety he carried with him. She needed it like air. She needed him. "But the thought of giving up on the only thing my heart desires without a fight is shaming every part of me that is a Lannister. I have to try."

"Does he even know you are fighting for him so fiercely?" Tyrion asked in a voice of a defeated parent, who couldn't stand against his daughter's wishes. Someone, who hurts himself seeing her in pain and despair. Someone who'd do anything to protect her. Someone Tywin Lannister would never be.

_People don't see it but you are a lion,_ she said to her brother in her mind. _Fierce to fight for what you love and believe in, but smart enough to know where to strike. _

"He does," Eris replied with a small smile, a pleasing warmth spreading in her chest thinking of the man owning her heart. The man who poisoned her mind in the sweetest way possible, who kept her awake and appeared in all her dreams. The man who became a part of her life she never wanted to lose. 

"I don't want you to get heartbroken, little sister," he whispered carefully, as he watched the tender smile full of committed love spread her freckled cheeks, her eyes sparkling as she was caught deep in a sweet thought of a man, Tyrion was certain would be her destruction. 

She laughed softly, stood up from the uncomfortable ground and bent over to press a light kiss to his temple, lingering there enough to whisper a sweet words of naivety into his ear: "I won't."


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is no persuading Tywin Lannister. Love means nothing to people in power, but there's no giving up. Meanwhile, a kind stranger almost rans Eris over. Who is he and why are his colors so foreign to her eyes?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I split this chapter into two parts so it wasn't 5000 words. I finally finished the hardest work at school so far, I hope it will allow me to post in shorter amount of time. Thank you for all the comments, it makes me want to keep going <3

Pleasant days weren't rare in King's Landing, quite the opposite. The sky was always clear, bright with the color of the most beautiful blue, sun shining bright, warming the air and not a single cloud to see above people's heads. Eris loved the feeling of warm rays on her skin and thin dress, the soft wind playing with the loose strands that escaped the long braid her hair was in. However now, when the light of the morning sun burnt her eyes through the window by her side and dried the ink on the perchment lord Tywin was scribbling on since she entered the room, barely glancing at her ever since, making her chest bubble with silent annoyance more and more every passing moment. 

"Why did you call me here, father," she blurted out when he poured hot wax on his rolled letter and pressed the seal into it, with agonizing slowness. 

"You should learn some patience, girl. It will come in handy. As well as the art of keeping your mouth shut," he barked out and leant into his chair, fixing his hard gaze on his daughter before him. 

_I do not have all day,_ she grumbled in her mind. _The tourney starts in only a few hours._ But she knew better than to say those words out loud. 

"You very much know why are you here-"

"No, father. I really don't."

"Do not," he gritted through his teeth, eyes piercing through Eris dangerously, sending chills down her spine like a hundred small spiders crawled down on back. "Interrupt me. I am very much aware Tyrion told you everything. I wouldn't tell him if I knew he would not, he spared me your protests and demurs, which I really don't have time for." Leaning on his elbow he pressed a finger against his lips, diving deep into his mind. 

"I-" 

"Don't embarrass yourself with that poor attempt for a lie, I know how bad of a liar you are. Save us both the struggle."

"Yes," she whispered defeated, avoiding his eyes. Her cheeks heated up, if it was the red of anger or pink of embarrassment, she didn't know. She shifted in her seat, trying to forget about her father's piercing gaze or the conversation they were ought to have, and grasped the green stone hanging from her neck, finding support and comfort in a simple thought of the man who had given her this precious gift. "Tyrion told me. And I was hoping we could come to a solution we would both agree to." 

"Don't even try this nonsense Eris, this is not up to discussion. It's just my good will to at least tell you who it is. I need someone to take care of Casterly Rock, someone like you."

"Why me?" she asked, still a little afraid of hearing the truth. Was it really because of how trusting she was? Did he think she would complain everything he says like she has no mind of her own? _Like a foolish girl he thinks I am. A foolish girl everyone sees me as. _

"You ask unnecessary questions," he mumbled annoyed. "Why, commoners love a leader with a good heart, but so do people who will be around you. Lying to you, manipulating you until it's them who is ruling, not you. That is why you need somebody strong willed and hard to fool. Someone everyone will respect."

"A ruthless brute with rough hands and cold heart," she said, her heart sinking into a black pit her stomach had become. Dread filled her mind as she thought about how cold her home will be with somebody like the man her father described by her side. How miserable it would be, to touch someone who wasn't Sandor, carrying his child, warming his bed. Living to smile and please. Living in misery, lonely and used. 

"Give up the songs about gentle knights, marriage is about politics, not about love." 

"You loved Lady Joanna," Eris whispered, flinching slightly when his head snapped to meet her eyes. 

"You are stepping over the line," he growled, clenching a fist next to his mouth. "I know this is all about that lowborn dog, I am not blind, nor stupid. Anyone would be grateful to receive a title for doing almost nothing." He is not a dog, she wanted to snap but bit her tongue, remembering his advice he told her just a while ago. She needs to learn when to speak. 

"Tyrion is smarter than me and a real heir. Why are you overlooking him?" 

"I would rather give the Rock to a sheep than to that little monster. The only things person needs to have have to manipulate him is a cunt between their legs and wine in their hand."

_You speak too low of him. He learnt from you. _

"I have things to do. Go, I will send for you when lord Florent will be here." 

She wanted to protest. She wanted to scream and plead, cry and beg, but she knew it would be useless. She did not want to make him more angry. She needed to learn when to speak.   
Swallowing the bulge stuck in her throat she bowed slightly and left lord Lannister's chambers, trying to focus on the bright side of the day. 

Happy thoughts were harder and harder to maintain with every passing day. With every cruel slash from life, it was more and more difficult to see the beauty of the world. She was clutching to the last bits of hope she had, last bits of faith as others mocked her, hurt her. 

_Why do people love hurting each other so much? Why do they enjoy agony of others?_

She didn't want to end up like her sister or Tyrion, getting hurt so deeply she would hate the world. Getting kicked down so low she would just want to cause pain to others, not believing there was still good. That there were things worth fighting for. People worth fighting for. Moments to enjoy and sensations to savour. 

Smell of fresh baked bread that floated in the air, sound of children laughing rang louder than anything else, she wanted to feel how happy it always made her. How her heart jumped with excitement when something pleasant happend. 

Cough deep in her thoughts, Eris ignored the shouts and loud sounds of hoofs pounding against the ground. She walked down the street, gaze on the small shop appearing in the distance behind the mass of people. The ground shaking under the weight of running horses, violent stomps made all of the small rocks jump in their rhythm. She was numb to any danger, unaware of the animals dashing towards her, a heavy mass of muscle that could easily crush her, until her scream pierced the air and a tall white horse was towering over her. Standing on two legs, the stallion hieghed sharply when his rider made him stop abruptly. Eris stumbled backwards landing or her bottom and hands and stared at the man sitting on the top of it, who jumped of his horse and carefully approached her. 

"Are you all right my lady?" he asked in a calm but slightly concerned voice, stretching his hand in front of him, offering it to her as a help to stand back on her feet. "My apologies, this was rather reckless of me." 

"No, I should have payed attention, my mistake." She stood up from the ground, dusting the dirt off her crimson. The proud Lannister gown now bared shameful marks of mud all over the skirt, making Eris' cheeks burn in shame. 

"Nonsense!" he exclaimed and threw his hands in a dramatic gesture. He was an old man, but the spark of the days of youth was still visible in his eyes, seeming it wouldn't leave anytime soon. The wrinkles around his eyes and mouth made him look like he was always smiling, friendly and soothing face he had, trustworthy no matter what expression his mouth was in under well groomed whiskers. He was a stranger with a soul of a long friend for everyone who had ever met him. "Please, let me escort you lady-" he trailed of waiting for her answer, warm brown eyes glowing from sunlight and joy that seemed so natural to him. 

"Eris," she quickly responded. "Just Eris is enough, my lord, but you don't have to can make the short walk on my own. Although I apologize, I don't recognize you, are you here for the tournament?" 

He smiled, so softly, his mouth barely moved an inch, and yet it was so bright, so welcoming, like nothing in the world was wrong at all. Looking old as time, his soul shined through as bright as anyone's, making the others' light look dimmed and dying. "Yes, indeed, I am. My lands could use a little fortune. To feed people and defend them, mainly now, when we face poverty like never before." He touched the silver brooch holding his purple cloak, a hint of sadness flashed in his eyes, the unnoticeable moment of weakness and worry showing on his face made him look like the old man he was trying to hide from himself and the world. 

  
"I see you are a little restless, I'm sorry for taking your time." Nothing in voice hinted that her impatience insulted him, it made Eris wonder, if he could ever be angry. If he could ever snap or yell, making people flinch in fear, because the scariest people are the calmest one, having the fiercest fires in them, just hiding because they know everybody fears their power. "It's quite alright, I hope I will see you at the tournament later on. Now, I need to prepare myself, please have a pleasant day lady Eris and be more careful," he smirked and left as swift as wind in the North. 

Even when he was nowhere to be seen, not a slightest mention of the bright kind eyes and trustworthy smile, Eris' mind was full of questions, dying to know more about the mysterious man. Learn his name, hear about his house, because no matter how long she studied houses and their words, their lords and ladies, colors and sigils, whether it was big house, famous and powerful, or just small bannerman, she recognized them, but as she was looking at the shining silver pin in the shape of mythical pegasus, nothing came to her mind. 

She wondered, curiosity itching inside of her thoughts, as she was bearing small homey shop, a plump bright smiling woman was already waiting for her in the doorway, waving joyfully.   
"My lady, I thought you'd never show! Oh, how satisfied I am with the result, it looks just lovely!" she was shouting from afar, unable to sustain her excitement. 

"I believe it is, but we already spoke about the titles."

"Foolish me!" she laughed and took Eris' hands into hers. "I always forget, it comes with age, but come, come." She started pulling her into the tiny shop, full with fabrics and unfinished dresses piling all around. 

The sun didn't get through the thick curtains, richly decorated with various flowers and colors, making the room look dark like a cave, with just a few candles burning on her table. 

"I cannot wait to see your reaction," the woman exclaimed happily running towards her with huge yellow cloak in her arms. The color was rich and fabric soft, three big black hounds embroidered in the middle. It was a fine work and a fabric of the highest quality, smooth to touch and light as a feather. 

"It's incredible," Eris whispered, a small smile on her lips as she was thinking about it wrapped around Sandor's shoulders, floating behind him when he's riding on his horse, faster than wind. "I cannot thank you enough." 

"You already did, with those pretty shiny things you brought the other day," she said in a sing-sang voice, shaking a small bag full of silver and golden coins in it. 

"Thank you, truly, but I have to run now or I won't catch him before it starts."

"Run girl, and tell him not to rip it the first moment he has it on, that would be such a waste!" Eris heard her voice as she was hurrying to the opposite part of the city. 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Axell Florent is perfect match for nobody, let alone Eris Hill. A passionate heart bares a stubborn soul and Eris won't give herself to anyone except Sandor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!

The tournament had already started when Eris finally came. Various song were sung from different sides, music flying through the air with laughter and noisy chatter. Massive tents were erected all around the place, knight and lords in shining armors walking around, their house colors all around them, proudly presenting their blood and ancestors in this fight for honor and glory.   
Everytime she saw them, the sharp weapons and heavy armor she felt a hint of desire to know how it must be to feel so strong, so powerful. To feel the rush of blood in your ears, barely breathing from exhaustion as you knock your opponent to his knees, sweat tickling every part of your hot skin.  
She mustn't do such things. Ladies do not fight. How could she ruin her soft skin with such a harsh metal, mark her face with battle scars and make her fragile body into mass of muscles. That is not how a woman is supposed to be. How could she lift the heavy steel with her weak hands? Stand against someone two times bigger than her, marching with his whole speed and strength at her, screaming on the top of his lungs a cry of battle.  
She wished she could have been born a man. To have freedom and power to chose his own faith and not have their men choose it for him. Viewed like a trophy, an accessory to be bought and admired. She dreamed of a world where her father was aware of her feelings, where people stopped their cruelty and did not wish others ill for their own gain. No happiness was real.  
The cheerful music seemed falset to her ears, smiles and laughs all around were just a joyful masks hiding the real pain underneath.  
How could she had been so blind to the real world? To the truth all those people were hiding. How could she had been so ignorant and not see how painful existence really was? Having to fight against your own family to be loved, to love.

"You seemed a little down my lady." Eris snapped around, a little startled by the soft voice talking to her, meeting a pair of sparking eyes. For a few moments she could just stare at the stranger before her, the same warm smile on his face as it never left. As it was unable to ever leave.   
He didn't wait for her response, it seemed like he knew he wouldn't get any at that given moment. "Sorrow does not suite that bright eyes of yours well, child." He said finally, frowning his brows slightly, as the sight hurt him. Seeing his expression was so strange, like it wasn't supposed to be there. Eris didn't know the man, but the slightest hint of uneasiness seemed so foreign in his face, rare even.   
Her mind was searching for the right answer, polite as the stranger deserved, but it was empty. He looked at her, in silence, waiting for her response, giving her all the time and space she needed. 

"You are scaring my sister with that smile of yours, Oldstone." 

"I apologize my lady, that was not my intention," Oldstone replied bowing slightly to her and turning to face Tyrion limping towards them, a goblet of wine already in his hand. "Lord Tyrion, I did not realize you two were related." 

"I understand your confusion we don't show much relation," Tyrion replied little snappily, taking a big sip from his wine, clearly referring to his appearance, which he was always mocked for. 

"Please excuse my brother's behavior, he's clearly been drinking too much already." Oldstone just smiled politely at Eris, nothing seeming to bother him at all. 

"It's quite alright, truly. Person more or less knows what to expect from him." 

"As I like being subtly insulted I came here with a purpose. Eris, father is looking for you, so either hide or go talk to him."

"What does he want?" she snapped before she thought twice about her tone. She didn't wish to see nor hear him. Sometimes even the slightest thing can be too much for a person. The smallest wish, simplest action can be unbearable and in that moment, she felt less than no desire to stand near that man. To listen to his commands and snarky remarks about her, the insults, the mocking the disgust in his eyes, but above all, she was afraid. Scared, she might meet the man Tywin chose for her to spend her lifetime with. Someone who will be by her side while Sandor will be nowhere near, or worse, with them, watching her smile on other man. Seeing her wed him and bear his child. Love him, respect him, be completely devoted as a wife is expected to. Could she? Could she be loyal to her husband, whom she swore to be his and only his, in front on the eyes of gods and men, if she had loved someone else?

"I think your betrothed is with him," he replied casually, alcohol already in his head, making it more and more difficult to stay serious about any topic. "What's that?" 

Everybody's attention turned on the bright yellow cloak in Eris' hands, about which she completely forgot about. "A gift," she replied quickly, hugging it closer to her chest, like it would disappear suddenly. 

"Lady should be the one receiving gifts, not giving them," Tyrion mumbled drunkily. 

"A lady can buy a gift to someone she cares about," she snapped back, getting annoyed by her brother's behavior. She had no time for his drunken foolishness, nor that whole meaningless conversation. "I will not stand this. Please excuse me my lord," she bowed to the man in front of her before turning to her brother. "And Tyrion, consider coming to me when you're sober. With an apology." Then she stormed off, trying to find Sandor, as fast as she could, but he was nowhere to be found. 

How could she overlook such a tall man, armored in heavy metal that reflecting sunshine and the light of fire, that scared of every living soul that set their gaze upon him. Where could he possibly hide, to be so impossible to spot? No matter his size, his appearance, when he wanted he could hide like a mouse in the dark, unable to find until he wanted to be found. Sometimes she could use some of his skill, when she just wanted to disappear from the land she was walking on, from the sudden duty she was faced with and her unyielding heart. 

"Sandor!" she called out at the figure she spotted in the distance, for barely a moment, but enough to catch her eyes. "Sandor!" She ran to him, trying to catch him from the distance. "Sandor wait!" He abruptly stopped and turned around, looking for the source of the voice calling his name, his face brightening when he saw her, so subtly that nobody would notice if they didn't know his face as well as she did. His expressions, the light and emotions in his eyes. He was an open book to her. 

"Eris," he almost gasped when he saw her but collected himself before anything could have been shown in his voice. "What are you doing here?" 

"I was unable to find you, I had to see you before you started the tourney. I have a gift for you." 

"A gift?" he asked, confusion almost shining through the hard mask on his face, as he touched the soft cloth in her hands.

"I want you to be proud of your name, no matter who bears it with you."

"Eris-"

"No, not a word. Just put it on please." 

He hesitated for a brief moment, but after a sigh he took it and threw it around his shoulders. It looked better than she imagined. Bright colors contrasting with his dark armor, the soft fabric flapped in gentle breeze just up to his calves, making him look like a real knight, as royal as the others around him. Like a man worthy of her hand and her fathers approval. Someone who could hold lands with her and walk by her side through life and love her as they are equal. 

"You look-" she stopped, looking for the right word, that would describe what she was feeling when she was looking at him. The tingling feeling in her stomach, pleasant and distracting, the strangest she had ever felt. The need to smile every time she spotted his face, painful empty hole in her chest when he was nowhere near. 

"Like all those cunts in here, one worse than the other," he growled disgusted, burnt side of his face twitching. 

"No. You look handsome." Something similar to a smirk appeared on his face, but he hid it quickly with a scowl. "Something is missing." 

"Missing?" 

Eris smiled, a mystery hiding behind her expression and at the same time something tender and genuine. She reached into her red-gold hair, untying a silken ribbon from her hairstyle, letting all her long strands loose on her shoulders. 

"What are you-" he started, but his breath hitched in his throat as she stepped closer, her sweet smell filled all his senses and blinded his whole mind, numbing it to nothing but her. Her sweet scent, her gentle touch, her loving smile, just her. Why did she feel so intoxicating, so strong and yet so soft, making him addicted to her presence and her whole?

"A favor," she whispered so quietly he barely heard her as she tied the pale pink ribbon around his sword. The small yellow roses painted on the thin cloth shined like bright suns on sky colored with sunrise, and golden rivet decorated the edges gliterred like jewels in royal treasure. "You are like a real knight now."

"I am no knight," he grunted and turned away from her face, but slowly turned back to face her when she placed her hands on his breastplate. He couldn't feel her touch through the armor and he wished he did. He wished he felt the warmth from her small hands on his body, with nothing in their way just the thin fabric of his shirt, their heats blending together. How would it feel with nothing in their way? Their bare flesh pressed on one another, feeling each other as they were meant to be on the day they were born. 

"Titles do not make knight," she whispered, looking deep into his eyes, giving her words deeper meaning as she craved it into his soul with her gaze. "Their hearts and actions do."

"Tell that to all those little fucks who will go chasing your hand, with their fancy titles and golden trinkets, worthy of nothing as a warrior." She replied with a sad smile, dropping her eyes to look at the ground. 

In that moment, Sandor felt a strange feeling inside his chest, almost painful and terrifying as he watched her beautiful face drop in sorrow. Without thinking he took her hands from his chest into his palms, with strange gentleness he slowly caressed her knuckles with his thumbs, his rough skin harsh on hers, in the most vulnerable gesture he brought them to his lips, brushing them slightly against her warm flesh.   
She took in a sharp breath, almost trembling under the ghostly touch of his mouth, it felt so strange, so foreign, and yet the sensation was the most wonderful she has ever felt. 

"You are not making it easy," she whispered breathlessly, brows furrowed as she took her hands from his grasp, hugging herself nervously. 

"Easy?" he asked confused, dropping his arms by his side. 

Eris sighed in response. "We have to talk. In private."

"What happend?" 

"I will tell you everything. Meet me at the abandoned brothel at the edge of the city. At night."

"They won't let you go."

"I have sneaked out before, I can do it one more time," she smiled reassuringly. "Now I have to go, you should get ready. Win for me."

"For you, always," he replied quietly nad leaned closer when she placed her hand on his unscarred cheek, kissing each corner of his mouth softly, the growing stubble on his face clawing her skin gently, mixing the slightest pain and strange pleasure.   
Then she just turned around and left, as unwillingly as she always did, when she was walking away from him 

When she returned to her place to wait for the tournament to begin, he father was sitting there with a horrid man by his side, dressed in russet and fox fur, he was sweating in the heat of southern sun, his cheeks red and chubby made his round head look like it was going to explode, close set eyes almost closed, trying to shield the rays of sun shining brightly into his face. 

"Eris," her father's voice rang through the ice sternly when he spotted her. She turned to face his direction, as slowly as she could, afraid. "Where were you girl, looking like this. What happend to your hair, you look like a wildling."

"I apologize father," she said quietly, trying to avoid eye contact, he ignored her apology, they both knew there was nothing sincere in her words.

"This is ser Axell from house Florent, your betrothed," he introduced the man and Eris' hear dropped. 

She swallowed the bump in her throat, trying to calm her shaking hands and eyes filled with tears. She refused to cry. She refused to look weak. Especially in front of Tywin Lannister. "Pleasure to meet you my lord, I am terribly sorry to keep you waiting," she bowed to him, not daring to look into his eyes, or anywhere at his face to keep her appearance strong and confident.   
From up close he looked even fatter and uglier than from distance, close set eyes and broad hairy nose making him look like a pig ready for slaughter, his heavy breathing making it harder to tell difference between the man and an animal. 

"Looks like you raised her good, there is nothing worse than an unobedient woman," ser Florent grunted, eyeing her from head to toe like he could see through the rich fabrics just to her bare skin. A chills climbed down her spine, dread and disgust on every inch on her body as she looked at the man in front of her. "Lovely little thing," he said quietly, licking his lips without looking away from her. 

"Thank you my lord. I hope you are enjoying this day," she said, as politely as she could, her stomach turning inside of her, making her nauseous. 

"Spare me the formalities girl," Axell Florent replied, his voice ringing like a trumpet in her ears. 

Eris wanted to apologize, or excuse herself from their presence, but her father's voice saved her, as she bowed his head towards a man that approached them. A familiar smile and colors came with his calming presence as he bowed to Tywin. "My lord Lannister, I didn't know if I would ever meet you in this chaos. Lady Eris, ser Florent," he greeted everybody with a polite nod. 

"Lord Baryon," her father replied. 

"Baryon?" she asked in confusion and sudden change of the man's name. 

"I understand your confusion my lady, your brother does prefer to call me little bit inappropriatly. I did get used to it of course," Oldstone smiled at her fondly, like the world was not crumbling apart. Like her life was still happy and simple, with no problems whatsoever and a sun hiding everything bad in the shadows, making it almost invisible to her eyes. She missed her childhood naivity. 

"Why Oldstone?" she whispered, looking curiously at him, questions and mystery filling her mind, almost forgetting about everything else. With every encounter he got more and more mysterious, more questions brought forth in her mind, wishing nothing more just to know more. 

"Go and sit somewhere Eris, you are just in the way," her father interrupted her, ruining her chance of getting her answer. She wanted to protest and wait, but gladly took any opportunity to run away from the situation and her beloved. With final look from behind her shoulder she left them to talk, sitting as far away as she possibly could, waiting for the tourney to start. 

She didn't care about the tournament alone, who would win or lose as long as she watched Sandor. How strong, how big he looked when he sat on his horse, great and mascular as he was, with strong legs and long rich mane. As black as a raven and shiny as the most expensive stone, making a low born boy into a high born lord.   
She hated that she couldn't see his face just the horrifying helmet shaped like the hound's head, proudly supporting his title. The Hound. She hated how he accepted it, she loathed the name, how people looked down on him, how he let them.   
But now as he was galloping towards each time a different man, with bigger fortune and better armor, well bred horse and squires by his side, and taking them down one by one, ending up victorious each time, looking down on them lying in the dirt, she sensed strength and confidence from him like never before.   
It felt like he was making a statement. Showing how really strong he was, how dangerous. With each win he told not to be underestimated, warned them not to mess with him. The Hound was becoming well known, and scarier than ever before. 

When the final joust match came, people were holding their breaths to see who will be the last undefeated man standing.   
The horses broke into a gallop against each other, throwing everybody into a silent expectation, as the two men held their lances, prepared to strike and be struck. The time seemed to stop as they rode closer and closer to each other almost touching.   
With the wooden lances breaking against the thick steel oh the men's armor, many jumped at the sudden loud noise of the two connecting, slicing through silence. Both men bent backwards at the sudden force hitting their chests, for a shard of a moment it seemed like they would both fall, but she saw how tightly Sandor grasped the reins, holding himself firmly in the saddle with his thighs while the other man fell to the ground with a loud thud, leaving the Hound victorious. 

Eris jumped from her seat, clapping happily to the cheer of his victory, watching him ride slowly to Robert, kneeling in front of him and taking of the helmet, showing the dark long hair wet from sweat, stuck on his face and received a flower crown spliced from pink roses and a pocket of gold.   
He stoop up hesitantly, gently holding the flower crown in his hands and found Eris' eyes, as a reassurment she is still there. With a big uneasy steps he came in front of her, not breaking their eye contact for a second and gently placed the crown onto her head, making her smile brightly at the gesture, like an open statement of his emotions and affections, showing the whole city his heart. That it was there, beating just for one person.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Some difficult decisions need to be made in the heat of the moment. One night can affect two people and change them unrecognizably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warining: smut, language

King's Landing had fallen into the darkness of the night, the moon nowhere to be found on the black sky. Every light in every house had disappeared, not even a faint flame of a candle visible in a window. Everybody was asleep. Deep in their dreams, tired of drinking, cheering and eating, they lied in their peaceful slumber, wrapped in soft silky sheets.   
Eris was wide awake. Her chamber was quiet and she couldn't see anything, a simple shapes reminding her of monsters from stories she used to listen to when she was young, increasing the dread she felt in her chest, her heart beating faster every second. She wanted to retreat from her idea, as a coward she knew she was, too scared of facing Sandor, but she couldn't let him stay there whole night, afraid of what happend to her. She made a choice she must stand by it. She might be just a scared girl, but she won't allow herself be weak. Not now.   
Standing from the bed, cold floor met the bare skin of her feet, making her shiver slightly and wrap herself tightly into the warm cloak. She slipped into her shoes, her steps now making a quiet rustling sound, echoing through the empty hallways. Nobody was in sight. No guards guarding the doors, no servants roaming around the castle. It seemed like everybody disappeared, making it almost too easy to sneak out.   
She could hear her breathing, loud as the sound of a gong in the mute air, shadows following her movements like spies and just the thoughts swirling in her mind were accompanying her through the web of buildings that has turned into a ghost town. The beating of her own heart hurt her, for it was as hard as a punches from a grown man, the rapid rythm almost breaking through her ribs, breath seemed coming out quicker and quicker with each hurried step she took, franticly looking around for the slightest hints of an unwanted company.

When she'd arrived Sandor was already there. Sitting on an old bed, dusty and ripped, his shoulders clutched in worry as if he was waiting for a death sentence. Dark hair in his face made it almost impossible to see the expression reflecting the conflicted emotions deep within him, wishing nothing but to hand her his heart, to let her know that he won't hide anymore, but the dark voices in his head screaming about all the bad things he might hear from her lips were holding him back, like chains he forged himself from his darkest fears and doubts. He must've heard her first. Know what was so important, and yet so intimate and dangerous to talk about it at this night hour.   
Stepping into the room, his head snapped upwards, the grey eyes met hers, unable to tear them away as she stepped closer, unsure about what to say or do, every movement suddenly felt difficult and too loud.

"You are here," she said stupidly, no meaningful words on her tongue as her mind was blank with fear and excitement.

"Yes." His voice was raspy and harsh like he had been screaming the whole day, wearing out his throat. It might have just been the worry clutching his chest painfully tight, about what he might find out. "You sounded..."

"Foolishly secretive? Horrified? Or just plainly strange?"

"What's going on?" He turned his face around when she sat next to him, so close, like she was always meant to be. Their knees roughing through the layers of sleeping gowns, the last barrier keeping them from each other. So easy to get rid of, and yet the most difficult to get behind.

"Gods are throwing branches under our feet, clearly feeling entertained watching us grow apart. I fee like they are tearing me away from you, as if I do not deserve you in my life."

"I acted like a cunt Eris but I-" he took a deep breath, trying to find all the courage he knew he had against any man, now fading away just looking at one girl's face. "Believe me I want you as close next to me as I can."

"Sandor," she sighed wearily, the heavy stone on her heart felt like it doubled in weight as she took one of his hand into hers, gently caressing his fingers. He wanted to listen to her voice, all the important words she had on her mind, but the fingerprints on his rough skin were distracting him from anything else. The soft touch he not once imagined all around his body, scratching and clutching helplessly as he showed her what he lived in his dreams every night, her presence so addicting he couldn't last a second without her quiet voice swirling in his imagination, whispering sweet nothings to his ear breathlessly. "I met my husband today."  
Seconds of silence passed before he could fully realized what she had said, the heat in his whole body slowly coming back to normal, the weight of her words falling onto him as a ton of bricks. "What?"

"My father, he-" she swallowed the last bits of resistance in her, the last allusions of the need to lie and say that all is right, and faced him like a woman, telling the truth rather than a girl hiding behind the illusion of perfection. "He arranged a marriage for me, allowing me to claim the family name and heritage the night I marry to the man he promised me to."

Heat of passion changed into a fire of fury in the boy. He stood abruptly, snatching his hand from her soft hold, leaving her scared and surprised by the sudden explosion of his emotions.   
He would have never blamed her. He hated himself for hiding like a coward from how he really felt. For not acting upon his feelings and desires when he knew the mutual feeling bonding them together.

"Sandor?" she asked softly, like she was scared what he might do.

"Are you happy?" The question was dripping with bitter tone, despising every highborn cunt for controlling other lives, loathing her father for thinking he can play his own children however he pleased, like they were nothing more but figures in his game, and himself for thinking he could hide forever and the world would wait.

"I'm terrified," she confessed, tears gleaming in her eyes, bottom lip quivering almost unnoticeably as she took a deep breath. "Disgust crawles all around me when I remember his face, the thought of waking up next to him and lying to sleep every night by his side makes my stomach twist painfully."

_The thought of bedding him makes my heart ache. _

Slowly, she stood up. Approaching her friend carefully, coming as close as he let her. He grew stiff, breathing unsteadily when she took his hand again. She was just to his chest, seeming small and fragile, so innocent and sweet he wanted nothing more than to pick her up to see right into to those green eyes that always made him do anything she wanted, taste her lips and smooth skin, run his fingers through the soft long hair and feel every last bit of her body close to him. He couldn't. He musn't have.   
She was like a goddess. Beautiful to look at but forbidden to touch.

"God's will be watching me to seal our marriage," she said and his face twitched, imagining anyone touching her sweet body, taking the only thing, the only person he truly cares for as a trophy so show others. "I cannot."

"Eris-"

"I cannot do it Sandor not with him. I always imagined to be with the person I trust the most. Who I know would never hurt me or even wrong me. Someone who fills my heart and completes my soul. All I ever wanted was you." The words stayed stuck in his head. He heard them again and again after they both fell into silence, the sound of her sweet voice echoing in his frozen mind like a scream in a deep dark chamber.

"What do you mean?" he swallowed, nervously, heart pounding in his chest, his whole self shaking in the strangest emotions he had never felt so intensely before. Like gallons of alcohol numbing the control he tried so hard to maintain.

"Take me," she whispered, so close to his body he could almost feel her every curve. Every last sensation felt ten times stronger than any punch he had ever received, any feeling he had ever experienced during fighting. It was so subtle and yet so strong, stronger than anything he had ever known.

"Don't say this," he breathed out heavily, the last bits of his sense screaming in alarm.   
"I won't be able to hold myself."

"Then don't." The last words of protest died in his throat as her lips met his with agonizing tenderness. The kiss was short and light, like a taste of what they both migh feel with every step further they'd take.   
As she parted from him, just inches separating their faces, he knew could no longer restrain himself.

"I don't want you to regret this," Sandor's quiet voice muttered hoarsly as he gripped her hip tightly, desperately trying to keep himself from taking her into his arms and showing her the kind of dreams haunting him at night, the idea of consequences fading with every passing moment.

"The only regret I would have is stopping." Taking a step back, she stripped her cloak and threw it on the old bed, shreds of dust jumping into the air, sparkling in the dark, when the cloth landed on the dirty furniture.   
He felt like his senses betrayed him, thinking he was in his dream once again, as she stood in front of him in her white sleeping gown, like an embodiment of the Maiden herself--fiery hair falling to her waist, hiding the skin visible through thin fabric, eyes dark and sparkling in the lack of light of the room, skin paler than ever before.   
He never realized how much he loved looking at her.

"The things you do to me," he grunted and closed the distance between them in one swift step, pulling her hips to his, roughly - as her touch was all he needed to survive, all he lived for - one hand grasping her hair tightly as he smashed their lips together in a fit of passion and lust, everything so much more different than before. More aggressive, harsher. Each movement lacked experience and skill, just two lovers yearning for each other.   
Her hands were shaking as she placed them on his face, rough skin underneath her smooth fingerprints assuring her he was real. She'd wanted this for so long, imagining how his hands must feel on her hips as he's drowning her in passionate kiss, slowly traveling up her back to grasp her hair and tilt her head to deepen the kiss. How his breath hitched whith a surprise touch of her hand on his exposed skin, how his eyes were slightly closed everytime they broke apart, dizzy from each others presence. Every contact of their skin started fire in her body and left her wanting more, needing him closer and closer with each passing second.   
She dropped one of her hands to his chest, without breaking the contact of their lips, the tip of her forefinger tracing the line of his jaw, barely touching the skin of his throat, and grabbed him by his shirt, pulling it down, a helpless attempt of her foggy mind to tear it off his body, the need of feeling his bare chest on her was stronger than any racional thought or logic. He knew what she wanted to do, he felt the desire in him growing everytime she desperately clutched onto him, trying to find support in anything she could. Her silent pleads encouraged him in taking the next step, forgetting the fear of crossing the line of intimacy, consequences of sins Gods looked down on, for there was nothing else he could sense than her small body trembling in his arms. He slowly removed her hand from his shirt, and held both of them in his palms - gently rubbing the backs of her hands while their foreheads were connected, lips inches apart just chatching their breath - and reached down to pull the cloth over his head. Just the single moment when their bodies broke apart was cold and lonely, the cool wind suddenly apparent on his skin, his bare chest vulnerable without her pressed against it, the scars visible for everybody to see.  
But she was the only one there. With the long red-gold hair falling into her face, lips slightly parted as her eyes were all over him, admiring every muscle and wondering about each scar.

"Far too young to be hurt so many times," she whispered, carefully tracing one on his shoulder, brows furrowed in pity. He wanted to dismiss it, reassure her, let her now that there might be worse - that there would be worse, but when he opened his mouth, all the words died in his throat, turning into a soft groan as she gently placed her lips on the scar, covering it whole with light kisses, her palm resting where his heart was. The cold fingerprints on the hot skin of his exposed chest, the butterfly touch of her lips on the sensitive scarred flesh, it was all too much.

In one swift movement he picked her up from a ground, as if she weighted no more than a child, finding her lips again to seal them with his, placing her carefully on her cloak she threw on the old bed, towering over her. She was there just for him to take. His to please, to love, to adore.   
He noticed a small smile on her face, as she looked up at him eyes roaming all over his body with sweet anticipation.

"What," he said quietly, bending over to get closer to her, trapping her between his arms and thighs.

She chuckled slightly, bringing her hand to his scarred cheek once again, caressing it with her thumb - tracing his sharp cheekbone and trying not to fall into the deep grey eyes watching her intensely. "I dreamed of this."

"I did too." He confessed, bruising a knuckle of his forefinger over her cheek down her neck to her revealed collarbone. He wanted to see her whole, without anything covering her - the full beauty and grace her body bared - but he was too afraid to push too much, to scare her and change her mind. He would go mad.  
His need was becoming stronger than anything, as his rough hands roamed down her curves - feeling her hips, her waist and stopping on her thighs where the hem of her nightgown ended, teasingly tucked up higher as Eris was laying down in the dirty sheets. Tips of his fingers went under the silky fabric, still unsure and worried about ruining everything, but her touch urging him to continue destroyed every doubt screaming in protest in his head, as he lifted the gown a slowly revealing her body to his eyes.   
A strange hunger swallowed him at the sight, an unresistible urge to kiss every inch of her pale skin washed over him, stronger than ever, a foreign heat spreading inside of his body as he devoured the view in front of him. She looked so vulnerable and so sensual just by laying on her back. Her lips were slightly parted, moisted and pink from his own; chest rising and sinking in the rythm of her breath and breasts reacting to the cold air around them.   
"Fuck," he breathed out, bending over to taste the skin of her throat - sucking and kissing his way down her stomach - leaving Eris gasping and moaning underneath his body. The sounds were so delightful, echoing in his mind and he knew he would hear it in his dreams for a long time with just a little chance of living it again. Somebody else was going to have her, whenever he wanted, without worry and fear. Somebody else was going to hear her sweet sounds as her hot body would be pressed against his in extasy.

"Please," she whimpered and reached in between their bodies to untie his breeches, leaving them to hold loosely on his hips, making him grip the sheets underneath them for support. Everything was too much. With every passing second he could feel his control wearing off, the need in him growing almost painfully as she touched him everywhere she could. He couldn't hold back.

Kicking off the last piece of clothing separating them, he lifted Eris from the bed and seated her into his naked lap, supporting her back with his rough hands - his face hidden in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent as close to her as he could - fingertips digging into her flesh as he held her in a tight embrace of their sweating bodies. She hugged his middle with her legs, her nails almost painfully scratching his shoulders in a hopeless manner, moaning sweetly with her eyes closed shut and head falling backwards as she was trying to handle everything he made her feel.   
"Please," she begged him quietly again, resting her head against his just to kiss the burnt side of his face slightly - to feel him gasp once again, to feel the hold on her back tighten, trying to bring her even closer. Her lips bruised gently over his ruined ear and hands got tangled in his long dark hair, encouraging him to continue however she could.

He groaned, and adjusting her in his arms and slowly joined their bodies together in the darkness of the night, marking her as his own and him as hers. She belonged to him as much as he belonged to her, their bodies tasting each other for the first time, marking each other's hearts, conjoining their souls in the most intimate act of love, breaking any barrier separating them. They belonged together. Nobody could ever tear them apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me unbelievably long but it was the hardest chapter ever for me to write. It was really a challenge because I have never written smut so I hope it wasn't unreadable or something.


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